Cold Drink

If any drink was made for leisurely back-porch sipping, it’s iced tea. Our version is brewed from zesty hibiscus tea, which is made from copperyred hibiscus leaves and is naturally caffeine free. Ginger syrup and lemon juice add layers of flavor.

To make a fizzy version of this recipe, use seltzer or sparkling water.

For spiked drinks, pour 1 ounce vodka over ice into each glass before topping with limeade.

This ginger beer is very spicy. Adjust the amount of lime juice and sugar to your taste.

Almost any type of fruit nectar can be substituted for peach with equally delectable results. We especially like the exotic flavor of mango.

This dessert was inspired by the Frozen Hot Chocolate at Serendipity, a restaurant in New York City.

Ginger beer is often made as a live fermented brew, a time-consuming and messy process—our method shortcuts time, but not flavor. For a controlled version of premade ginger beer, use a soda siphon to provide carbonation.

I consider myself a pretty high-energy guy, but some mornings, even I need something that will really wake me up. The fresh ginger and pinch of salt brighten the fresh fruit and vegetable juices here, making this an ideal breakfast drink. It also cures a hangover like nothing else. Or so I’m told . . .

Even though I originally conceived of this as my take on homemade ginger ale, I’m hesitant to call it that. It’s such a far cry from the sugary bottled stuff. It has an intense gingery heat that’s heightened by the acidity from the lemon. Be sure to use a fresh bottle of club soda here. (I prefer the little bottles of Schweppes.) You need the fizziness to deliver the flavor.

Serve this punch with Cheese Straws (page 20). It’s a Yearwood family tradition—perfect to serve at Christmas parties, because it’s a beautiful bright green and makes a pretty punch bowl.

On the first year of the garden, we planted six tomato plants, one smallish row of lettuce that bolted overnight, and, just for fun, a dozen wormwood plants (Artemisia absithium). Of course, by then the absinthe craze had faded and the silver-slotted spoons were long gone. It didn’t take much for us to soak way too much of those plants (in our houses, of course) in a jug of alcool (grain alcohol), then correct the awful taste of wormwood with a full bottle of pastis. Man, it was strong, and it worked, too. A few years ago, we gave Martin Picard at Au Pied de Cochon a pickle jar full of absinthe; when we later visited the restaurant, about a thousand dollars in cash was sitting in the liquid and people were drinking it right out of the jar. Disgusting. Picard would add more booze when the level dropped. So you have this huge jar of plants and money just sitting there with the top on. Every season we try to concoct a better mix—at home, of course. You’ll need a gram scale for this recipe.

When we opened Joe Beef, we didn’t have a patio. We had a patch of wasteland where only burdock grew. Not many people know what burdock is, though they may have seen or eaten the roots in vegan or Japanese restaurants. Its Latin name is Arctium lappa and it is a biennial plant, which means that the first year it makes a long taproot and hairy rhubarblike leaves. It survives the winter because of its reserve of food, and then the second year, it bears flowers, then fruits. These itchy little clingers stick to your pants. It’s a treasure chest of medicinal virtue for lungs, hair, and bowels. We didn’t know what to do with it. But the four leathery-skinned Italian men who came to lay our concrete slab knew what to do with it. In fact, it took them four hours to lay the slab, half of which was spent carefully pulling and collecting the burdock roots. They said they would wash it when they got home, then steep it in red wine and consume it as a tonic. So now every year, we send the newbies to dig for burdock in the fertile grounds of the Liverpool House backyard and make a few bottles of that tonic.

When summer is in full swing and melons are fat and juicy, treat yourself to this delightful, kid-friendly beverage. You can use cantaloupe, honeydew, or a mixture of different melons. Watermelon works best on its own, though—its consistency doesn’t jive with other kinds of melons. For a more adult beverage, try spiking this with tequila or vodka!

Far too few people are familiar with the vinegar spritzer. It may sound strange to the uninitiated, but it’s actually a lovely and highly refreshing drink. It’s the perfect thing to wake up your taste buds or cleanse your palate.

Micheladas are my drink of choice. It’s a simple beverage: a little fresh lime juice and salt mixed with an ice-cold beer in an ice-filled mug. This recipe is for the Michelada Preparada, also known as the Michelada Cubana where I grew up, a spicy and tangy version made with a clam-tomato juice. I decided to freeze the mixture into cubes so I can always have them available for myself or unexpected company. Pucker up and beware, unless you’re Mexican! The ice cubes are supposed to melt slightly into your beer for a refreshing and zesty drink that is thought to cure even the worst hangover.

Iced tea mixed with lemonade—also called an Arnold Palmer—is incredibly refreshing. This version is made with a hit of spicy ginger syrup and basil so it tastes a bit more complex, but it’s still really simple to make. You’ll want to drink this all summer long.

Who knew a smoothie could be so sophisticated? Basil and lemon syrup make this one much more refined than the usual banana-berry blend, and it’s delicious with savory dishes like eggs. Served on its own it’s a great way to start your day on the light side.